Down By the Seaside
by everfree-arrow
Summary: How did fate bring to seprates such as Annie and Finnick together? This is the story of the trials of their love.


~I don't own Hunger Games. Special thanks to my beta, **musicisjustme**. She wrote the nightmare for me. ~

The darkness floods my eyesight as I strain my pupils to find light, hoping to bring relief to the horrifying images still burned into my thoughts. There I am, standing in the roped off area with the other thirteen-year-old boys, waiting for Fredrick Himpleton to pick the tributes names from the two large glass balls on stage. My name, only in twice this year, hopefully resting out of the way. And then Fredrick is at the girl's ball, and he's calling a name. "Coral Marina."

The poor girl, she's just twelve. And she's walking up to the stage, staring at her feet the whole way. "Volunteers?" Fredrick asks. Not a soul jumps for the little girl. "Alright. Moving right along, now for the boys!" he says, a smile playing at his lips.

He shuffles his hand around in the ball for a bit, testing slips of paper. He'll have one almost out of the ball, and then he drops it, going back in for another. Finally, he has one and is walking back to the microphone. "Finnick Odair," he reads. Okay. I'm all right, I think. Surely someone will volunteer for me? We are a career district. Someone stronger than me should be taking my place. Someone will. I know they will.

And then I'm standing on the stage, and no one is stepping up for me. What is it this year? No one wants to bring home the glory of winning? I'm seeing my death, and its horrible. Someone slashing my throat at the Cornucopia, dying of dehydration, eating poisonous food, being caught in someone's trap then tortured for hours before being granted the gift of death…

The stillness of the early morning is sweet relief as I sit up, clutching my sheets. Just a dream. I'm still safe in my bed, in my house…for now. I suck in a few deep breaths, letting the smell of fish fill my senses. The house always smelled like fish- my father owned a fishing boat, and my mother helped clean the day's haul to be sent to the Capitol. The smell would seep into our clothes and hair and lungs. It was inescapable.

A few more breaths, and another smell is hitting me full on; the sweet, salty scent of the ocean. It clears my head a little bit. My heart rate slows a little. I'm still here. The odds are still in my favor. Two slips. I don't have a chance of getting chosen…right?

There's no way I'm getting back to sleep now. Silently, I slip out of bed and pull on some shorts. Sitting in the silent house won't calm my nerves. I need to get out, stretch my legs. The salty sea air is calling to me. In seconds, I'm down the stairs and in the kitchen, grabbing a slice of bread, then out the back door.

The village is deserted, and unusual thing for this time of morning. I'm usually up this early, helping my father get the boat ready. The village is usually swarming with the early risers, the other boatmen, and those preparing to open their stalls early for the crowds of Capitol-enslaved-workers who will be heading out after the sun rises. Today, however, the village is dead. Everyone is sleeping in. No work on Reaping day.

I head for the beach. Most members of District 4 grow tired of the constant smell of seaweed and fish, grow sick of the salt water surrounding us, but not me. I love to swim. My father likes to joke that I was born in the water. My mother taught me to swim before I learned how to walk. She doesn't swim much anymore, not since her left knee gave out; so I swim for her. The waves are always a welcoming sanctuary for me.

I meander along the beach, eating my slice of bread. The waves lap against my feet, and I want to dive right in. Instead, I head towards a tiny cove around a cliff. The small, secluded area was my favorite place to go when I wanted to be alone. Even in the semi-darkness, my feet know the way.

I collect a handful of flat stones and sit on my favorite set of rocks. The sun breaks over the horizon, its fiery rays reflecting over the glassy surface. I chuck the stones into the water, one by one, and watch them skip across the surface, before sinking and vanishing. After a few minutes, I stand up and dive below the cold surface, following the stones' trajectory to sandy ocean bottom.

The world is quiet down here, surrounded by the kelp and fish. The water is the only thing I know. I float along, my mind finally clear. I let myself sink so I'm sitting on the bottom. The world below is murky and dark. Seaweed twists around my body, and I watch little silver fish dart around me, accepting my presence. I'm calmed by it. I stay there until my oxygen runs out, and then reluctantly return to the real world.

"YOU THERE! STOP WHAT YOU'RE DOING!" I wipe the saltwater out of my eyes and turn towards shore, trying to see who's yelling. Nobody is ever awake this early, not on Reaping day.

"What you're doing is breaking the law, do you hear me?" It's Kione Fleeman, one of the Peacekeepers, I recognize his voice now…but breaking the law? All I was doing was swimming. Then again, I had never been caught. I sink down, about to dive under the surface again, and then I realize Kione isn't even looking at me. He's looking at something further down the shore. I squint through the glare of the dawn light. A person is huddled over in the sand- that must be who Kione is yelling at. I sink lower in the water, trying to remain unseen, just in case I'm still breaking some new law.

Kione strides forward and grabs whoever it is by the wrist. I can make out long hair- it must be a girl. I paddle closer, trying to hear what he's saying.

"You know it's against the law to go fishing outside of the designated hours. This is a form of stealing! Do you know how we punish that?" I can't hear the girl's answer, but whatever it is infuriates Kione. He yanks the girl upright. Her hair falls away, and I catch glimpse of her pale, terrified face. It takes me a moment to recall her name- it's Annie. Annie Cresta. She's close to three years younger than me, but I've seen her in the marketplace with her father, who makes fishing poles.

Kione brings out his club and strikes Annie. She crumples onto the sand, and he raises his club as second time. I can't watch this. Annie is so tiny and frail, one more blow like that could kill her. I can't witness anymore despair on a day like today. "STOP!" I cry out, then cut through the water towards the shore. Kione is startled, clearly not expecting anybody else to be around this early. He's lowered his club slightly, searching for me.

I reach shallow waters and stand up straight. Kione usually has patrol near the docks, so he's familiar with both my father and me. I'm hoping this will give me an advantage. "She wasn't fishing," I tell him, looking him straight in the eye. I can see his brow wrinkle up. He doesn't believe me. I need to act fast.

"I asked Annie to meet me here. She's the weakest swimmer in the District." This wasn't a lie- she'd often been talk of the village, being the daughter of the man who makes fishing poles and not swimming at all. Kione continues to grip his club, so I press on. "It's reaping day, and it's early, so I figured there was no chance at all of people being able to watch her. I was going to teach her." I grin at him, trying to smooth it all over.

Kione nods. "You are the best swimmer in the District, Finnick. However, I found this fishing line with her" He holds it out. I need to think absolutely fast. I take the line from Kione and give it a sharp tug. "But you see, this isn't just any fishing wire. This is the strongest fishing wire in her father's shop. I've watched my father catch very big fish with this, and it won't snap. I asked her to bring some with her." I return the wire to Kione, and close his hand around it. "As a lifeline, you see. She's terrified of the water."

"I am," says a soft voice. Annie has come around during the course of our conversation. She's absolutely white. Her wide eyes lock onto mine, and instinctively, I reach forward to help her up. I throw another smile at Kione. "I'm going out with my father tomorrow morning- if the odds are in my favor- how about two fish find their way to your table without reaching the record books?"

Kione bursts out laughing. "Thirteen years old and you already know how to charm." He playfully hits my shoulder. I try not to flinch. "You are your fathers son. All right, you've got yourself a deal." With that, he turns and continues down the beach. As soon as he's out of earshot, I turn to Annie. She's still staring at me, absolutely terrified. "Everything's okay. If he bothers you again, tell me, okay?" She nods, wordlessly.

I kneel down so I'm at eye level with her. "Hey. Come on. Why are you so scared? Aren't you a little too young to worry about the Reaping yet?" This gets another nod from her. "My birthday isn't until next week," she whispers. "I'll be eleven."

"Then come on, smile a little bit." She shakes hear head. I notice the tears forming at the corners of her eyes. "You've got no siblings...are you worried about your friends?" She shakes hear head again. "I just wanted to p-pr-practice…" Annie begins to cry. "I was going to throw them back!"

"Practice what, Annie? Fishing?" She nods. "Everybody at school keeps making fun of me, my father makes poles and I can't fish…or swim…" Her voice breaks. I pat her shoulder, not quite sure what else to do. After a minute, her crying subsides a little.

"Listen, Annie, you need to practice during fishing hours so you don't get in trouble. They won't be nicer even though you're young. Okay?"

"Finnick!" I look up. My father is down the beach, waving at me. I wave back. "I'm going to do some repairs on the boat before breakfast, care to help?" he calls.

"Be there in a minute!" I turn to Annie and offer her one more shoulder pat. "Don't swim unless there's somebody else around. You're tiny, we don't want you getting swept away!" I grin down at her, and with that, I run off down the beach to join my father.


End file.
